Written Sounds and Spoken Letters
by smoking-tulips
Summary: Natalia is a highly competent Editor for UU Editorials. But her news assignment with a reclusive Norwegian author and illustrator is making her question a lot of things.
1. Chapter 1

It was another hectic afternoon as Natalia flipped through the latest chapter of Francis' cookery book. Underlining a misspelling of the word "Quickly" she concluded her work for today done.

On her way out of the office she bumped head first into Arthur: the head of the editorial company she worked for.

"Ah, Miss. Arlovskaya. Just the woman I was looking for." He commented with a polite smile.

"I was just heading of home, Sir," Natalia replied holding up the folder of papers for him to take "This is Mr. Bonefoy's latest chapter. Corrected and advised upon."

"Mhh," Arthur hummed as he took the folder, opening it to flip through some pages quickly, "excellent work as always, but this wasn't why I was looking for you."

This caught her by surprise "Oh? What can I do for you then?" she questioned a little verily. Last time Arthur had been looking for her it was to help a Lithuanian poet with his poetry publication. Natalia found the whole thing tedious. The man's poems where beyond sappy and romantic – not at all to her tastes.

"Are you familiar with the children's author Erik Sørensen?" Arthur asked with a faint smile.

Natalia thought for a moment before nodding. She had indeed heard of the Norwegian author Erik Sørensen.  
A rather strange man if rumours where to be believed.

"What of him?"

"He recently sent a request to have one of our editors look over his work. The previous one apparently clashed a little too much with his...eccentric personality," Arthur coughed awkwardly.

"Every writer is eccentric. How bad can he really be?"

"You'll get to find out first hand when you go see him yourself I believe," Arthur handed her a small piece of paper folded in two "Any expenses you use to get there will be paid by Sørensen himself,"

"Expenses?" Natalia gave her boss a puzzled expression before unfolding the paper, eyes widening as she realised just exactly where Erik's home was.  
"That...that's in the middle of nowhere!" she exclaimed, staring at Arthur in disbelief.

"Why on earth does he require me to come all the way out there? Can't he just send us his work vie e-mail or something?"

Arthur shrugged "I'm not sure, all I was told was that he refuses to have anything online or in digital form until everything is perfected and ready for printing. However, I can offer the job to someone else if it's too troublesome for you."

Natalia bit her bottom lip as she considered her options.  
"Can I phone him or something? To work this out?"

Arthur nodded with a smile.  
"Certainly, I'll send you his contact details so you can get a hold of him tomorrow."

"Thanks" Natalia gave a nod to Arthur before taking her leave; mulling over the proposal for this job the entire way home in her car.

The next day the first thing she did was punch in Erik's phone number, tapping her pencill against her desk as she waited for the author to answer.  
It took a while but he finally picked up.  
"Hallo..." his voice was deep and rather muffled – it sounded as if he had been asleep.

"Good morning Mr Sørensen. Natalia Arlovskaya from UU Editorials here."

"Oh yes..." Erik replied nonchalantly

"I understand you wish for someone to come in person to read over and edit your work."

"Yeah. Prefer that to phone calls and e-mails," he grumbled.

"I see..." Natalia lied; she didn't understand him at all "I'll make the necessary preparations, but I won't be able to arrive until Friday. Is this acceptable?"

This would give her four days to pack and think of ways not to harm this man for making her travel so far. At least the pay was high enough to justify going to the middle of nowhere.

"Sure. Call me if you get lost Miss Arlovskaya," Erik replied. Natalia could hear him move his head up and down in slow nods.

"I doubt that will be a problem. Until Friday...god day."

She hardly waited for him to mumble a 'good bye' in return before hanging up.  
Huffing she glanced around her office with a slight frown. She needed to pack. God knows how much material Erik had to be read and corrected.

-X-

The drive took her five hours.  
One hour was spent solely on a long and windy country road that was so covered in snow that it was hard to tell where road began and ended.

Cursing and grumbling she finally made it to the middle of fucking nowhere-land. The snow was at least up to her knees as she stepped out of the car, but flicking her hair back, Natalia took it with grace.

Knocking on the door as hard and her cold hands would allow her, she took a step backwards and waited.  
She bopped up and down on her feet, trying to keep moving in some way to ward of the cold.

Inside she heard some shuffling before the door was finally opened and a man in his late twenties opened the door with the most bored expression she had ever seen on anyone since Heracles had asked her to check his book on cats.

"Hei," Erik greeted with a voice Natalia could only describe as utterly devoid of emotion "Come in, you look cold."  
Nodding courtly and stomping some of the snow on her boots off, Natalia stepped inside the relatively nicely sized cottage; revelling in how warm and cosy it was compared to the chilly and snow filled landscape outside.

"Quaint," she commented as she took off her shoes and coat. The cottage was built out of logs with wooden panels and floorboards lining the walls and floor – most likely to keep out the biting cold.  
It was plainly decorated with little colour. The odd picture on the wall and book cases full of books (and a few figurines of trolls and fairies) the only things that gave any indication as to what kind of person Erik was.

The sofa had a few pillows and blankets, but it looked so new and pristine Natalia didn't think Erik himself had ever used it.

"Got any luggage?" Erik asked as he leant against the door frame.

"Only a little. I'll bring it in soon," she turned to face him, trying to get a good read on this reclusive author. "I just want to see what quantity of material you have for me to read though before brining any of my things inside." Deep down she hoped this could be done in a day.

"Hrm," Erik grunted "Follow me then..."

Natalia followed closely behind as he led her away from the living room and down a very small and narrow hallway before entering a door to the left.  
It was apparent from the moment she stepped inside that this was his workspace.

There where two large desks on opposite sides of the room; one filled with art supplies and the other had a old fashioned typewriter and a laptop.  
Only one desk chair between the two desks – with wheels – Natalia figured Erik simply rolled from one desk to another depending on what he did.

The wall directly opposite the door was essentially just one very large window that faced out onto the snow-covered landscape. From the workroom one could see the lake and forest in the distance with large mountains towering above them.  
She certainly understood why someone might take a lot of inspiration from such a place.

"That shelf there," Erik pointed to one to the right, fairly close by to the desk of drawings "is full of books I think are more or less done..."

Natalia took a sharp intake of breath. There where at least 50 books in that shelf.  
"That...that's a lot more than I expected..." she stepped closer to tilt one of the crudely bound books out from it's place on the shelf.

"They're mostly short stories, not as if I've written a dictionary," He rolled his eyes, running a hand through his blonde hair: smoothing down any frayed strands.

Natalia nodded. Even if they were short and almost all done this was not done in a day.  
Frowning she put the book back. She was probably going to have to stay here for a week if not more.

"Well then, I have a lot of work cut out for me," she voiced out loud as she turned around to face the Norwegian author. "You told Arthur that there was a room for me here, correct?"

Erik nodded and beckoned for her to follow him once again.

He lead her back up the hallway and then up a very steep staircase.  
The first floor wasn't as spacious as the downstairs was, but her room still fit a wardrobe and a double bed. So Natalia didn't mind too much.

After showing her her room and the bathroom, he continued showing her where everything was.  
The kitchen was quaint but homely. It smelled strongly of coffee, and upon opening a cupboard and finding several packets of instant coffee, ground coffee beans and even whole beans, Natalia decided that the coffee smell was something she would have to get used to it.

They carried her things in from her car in relative silence, only exchanging a few words as Erik asked where she wanted her various items stored for the time being.

While Natalia unpacked her clothes, Erik set about making dinner.  
By the time she was done Erik had secluded himself in the workroom – a note on the door telling her to help herself to stew and whatever she wished.  
He didn't expect her to do anything tonight after a long drive; so she settled down in his living room and tried to watch some TV.

Come ten o'clock she was too tired to even focus on the flashing images and dragged herself up the stairs and into bed, purring contently as the soft mattress and duvet engulfed her.  
So far this wasn't the worst assignment she'd agreed to take.

-X-

She awoke the next morning to a pot of coffee already made and a note to say she could help herself again to whatever she wished.

After having eaten her breakfast she made her way to his work space, knocking twice before entering.  
Erik ignored her completely, so Natalia decided to just grab a handful of books to sift through and brought them to the living room.

Despite the contents of the stories begin aimed at children, Natalia detected a slight streak of morality in most of them that made them interesting for adults to read as well.

Armed with post it notes and a pen she sifted through 10 books that day. Erik's issue wasn't really anything to do with the contents; it was more spelling and grammar that seemed to allude him.  
However, she quickly understood that many of the mistakes she at first though were mistakes or errors on his part was part of the story.

She marked a full book before she realised that what she thought was a misspelling of a name turned out to simply be a different way of spelling the name.  
Frustrated and a little angry, she had to re-do that book.

It had been a long time since she had edited children's books. The wording needed to be simple and descriptive. While other books given to her to check made her cringe at the use of certain words, the same words couldn't be substituted for anything else. Children interpreted things differently after all.

Dinner was eaten together, but in silence. Erik seemed to be in a completely different world. Eyes glazed and distant as he stared into empty air for a good ten minutes. Fork empty and suspended lazily above his plate. Natalia wasn't sure what to do at first.

Then she grew tired of his silence and gave him a kick to the shins.

"Tell me," Natalia put down her cutlery and stared at Erik "Where do you get inspiration from?"

Erik gave her a puzzled look "Inspiration...?" he mulled over the word for a while as he swirled his water around in his glass.  
"I guess...things around me?"

"There's nothing living out here save for the odd animal, and yet to write these little stories for children. Filled with brave heroes and heroines, monsters and good guys. There are morals and lessons to learn in so many of them...so how and why?"

Erik shrugged.  
"I like children," he stated flatly, making Natalia sight. Usually she didn't enjoy long conversations, but Erik was the king of short answers and disinterest.

"Forget I asked." she huffed as she resumed her dinner.

Three more days passed in relatively the same manner.  
Even if Natalia was getting a lot of work done, she was growing increasingly annoyed at Erik and his silence..

The man hardly spoke, kept to himself a lot and seemed to prefer to communicate with written notes instead of actual words.  
However, when he did speak Natalia didn't particularly enjoy what he said.

Sarcasm seemed to be his preferred method of 'joking', and if it wasn't sarcastic it was usually snarky or bitter.

By day five Natalia was about to strange the Norwegian man with her bare hands and leave him to rot in his secluded little cabin.

The final straw was when she'd gone to use the washing machine for only to find that all her whites had been dyed a pale pink due to Erik having thrown one of his stupid red t-shirts in with the white wash.

Fuming, she threw her now pink shirt down on the floor and stormed angrily out the room, fully intending to give this damned man a piece of her mind.

However, she came to a sudden halt as she rounded the corner of the living room and spotted Erik reclining in his chair. For once he was out of his workroom and in the living room.

His feet where dangling over the edge of the armrest and he was smiling ever so faintly at the book in his hands. The golden glow from the setting sun illuminated the bare and dark room, giving it a softer look.  
Suddenly Natalia understood why Erik kept that miniature whale-skeleton in the window. The shadow it created on the wall made for a beautiful if not a little haunting image.

She stood there in stunned silence, watching his eyes flicker from left to right over and over again; before turning the page and starting anew.  
He looked so peaceful, so happy and _content.  
__  
_All she had seen until now was frowns and sneers – but the white pages in the book seemed to draw another personality of of the cold and distant Nordic man.

Taking another small step forward to get a better look at him; she immediately regretted it as the floorboards creaked under her bare feet.  
Erik's head snapped up from the book and stared at her, eyes wide in surprise for a brief second before they fell down to his normal expression of half-lidded boredom.

"Need anything?" He enquired coolly, the warmth in his eyes long gone as he slowly started to close the book.

"No.. not really," Natalia began as she took another few steps closer to him "Just curious as to what you're reading..." she titled her head to the side to get a better look

"Fairy-tales...by H.C. Andersen.." she read out loud as he saw the faded and word down gold letters on the book's spine.

"Mhm, good stories," he mumbled, glancing back at the pages and smiling to himself.

"He's Danish though," She didn't think Erik would openly admit to liking that – but clearly she was wrong.

"Nationality doesn't matter when it comes to good stories," he explained, voice soft and warm.

"Are those stories what inspire your own ones?" She inquires; immediately regretting asking as Erik's eyes turn cold and angry, slamming his book shut and disappearing out of the living room, leaving Natalia to wonder and trying to understand what happened.

She doesn't see him for the rest of the day and upon discovering he's actually locked his door this time, Natalia only grows even more frustrated with him and vows revenge.

Revenge comes in the form of laundry. While bleaching her own pink clothing (to try and make it white again) Natalia spotta a few of Erik's blue shirts in the hamper. With a glint of mischievousness she throws them all in the sink. Stirring them all around carefully, a smirk on her lips present as he hums to herself.

Erik clearly knows nothing of her schemes. She even has time to wash them all and hang them back in place before the Norwegian male even emerges from his work room. Natalia notes he must have been doing artwork of some sort because his hands are covered in ink.

"You've got some ink...everywhere" she almost laughs as she notices it's even in his hair.

Erik grumbles and runs a hand through his blonde hair, only making the situation worse.  
"Shower..." he mumbles and disappears upstairs.

By the time he halfway stumbles back downstairs, Natalia is already eating her dinner.  
She almost chokes on her potato dumpling when Erik strolls into the kitchen in only trousers and still damp hair.

"Put a shirt on," she scolds, trying to hide her blush by pretending to wipe her mouth with a napkin.  
There are some strange tattoos on his back. Runes by the look of it, but Natalia can't be quite sure of their meaning.

"All are in the wash..." he replies without turning to face her, helping himself to some dinner before joining her at the small wooden table.

It's barely wide enough for two people to eat at, so their plates clink together and hands brush past one another whenever they try to reach for something at the same time.

Eating her dinner far too quickly, just so she can leave the table, Natalia goes back to correcting one of his books.

She's pulled out of her editor-mindset by the confused voice of Erik asking her a question.

"I could have sworn the shirts I put in the hamper earlier today where blue," he comments as he stares at the white shirt he just put on.

"Really? Because I'm pretty sure they've always been white," she replies with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

"Oh?" Erik slips the shirt off again and holds it in front of him, looking at it as if it's alive.  
"You're probably right," he reasons after a few seconds of intense staring, before putting it back on.

As he disappears out of the living room, Natalia rubs her eyes. She knew he was a little eccentric, but this solidified in stone that he certainly lives in his own little world.

-X-

"There you go," she huffs as she places the the last book she's corrected back in the shelf. "All done," she rubs her hand together lightly as she cast a glance at Erik hunched over his drawing desk.

It had taken two weeks to get through all his current finished books, and she didn't know how long exactly it would take him to correct all his mistakes before she had to check it over once again.

He still drove her crazy with his few words and odd mannerisms – but she had managed to ignore it all enough; telling herself over and over again that she was soon going home and wouldn't have to see him again for what she presumed would be several months even.

He helps her with her bags, carrying them back to the car just like he did when she first arrived. However, goodbyes are short and terribly formal. A light handshake and a half-hearted wave before he disappears into the house once more.

Natalia frowns as she puts the car in reverse and turns it back around. She doesn't see him standing in by kitchen window, watching her drive away.

The first thing she does when she's back home is take a long and relaxing bath. Filling it the entire bathroom with candles and the water itself with flower petals and oils.  
Sinking into the warm water she leans back, savouring the quiet atmosphere around her.

A little too quiet even.

Lying in bed she suddenly realises how used to Erik's house creaking in the wind she's becoming.  
Or how she's a little surprised to find herself annoyed no one's made her coffee when she wakes up.

She makes far too much dinner and curses angrily at herself and the already overfilled freezer as she tries to not waste too much of it.

Telling herself she's just stressed and a little disoriented from her odd job in the middle of nowhere, she pushes the feeling of loneliness away and goes back to work.

She's been alone for so long. Two weeks with strange company isn't going to make her want anyone.

* * *

_A.N: Cookies to whoever can guess what the "UU" in "UU Editorials" stands for._

_Again, this was born from me staring at Ducere's picture for too long ( it's my desktop background okay? I'mnotsorry) and very odd but still flawless conversations with Laura. (not to mention some lovely help from Squirreltastic)  
_

_I am trying to give Laura feels. I'm not sure if I'm succeeding enough._


	2. Chapter 2

_A.N: spitting this into two chapters. Since 6000++ words was a little too long for a one-shot._

* * *

He'd stared after her car for far longer than he'd ever care to admit before going back.

In the middle of the night he'd woken up with an idea and before the idea could leave him he had started writing.  
A woman travelling. Travelling far.

It all started like that and then more ideas came flooding.

When the sun finally shun through his window he had tried and almost falling asleep over his desk. However, as he stumbled back up into bed, his mind just hadn't been able to leave the idea alone.

He'd dreamt of her. Which in it self was odd.  
He never dreamt of other people. Only his own figments of imagination.  
Yet the woman who wandered through his mind was certainly not just a simply character from his own mind.

A week passes slowly as he tries again and again to perfect this new story.

He frowns as he erases the paragraph he has just written, for only to try it again. How exactly did her hair look in the morning sunshine? Erik tries to think back, but he's not sure how to accurately describe it to the detail he wants.

Discarding his pen in exchange for a paintbrush and pencil he tries to draw her instead. Light strokes of brush and pencil turn into angry rips and large blots of paint as the details just do not come out like he wanted.

She was here for two weeks he mutters to himself bitterly. How could he not remember how to draw her like he wanted to?

"There's someone here for you" Arthur sticks his head through the small gap of the open door to her office.

"Who?"

"Mr Sørensen."

Natalia drops her pen in shock.  
"What? You can't be serious?" her first thought is that Arthur is playing some sort of prank on her.

"I am, he's here. In person." Arthur empathises the word 'person' as if Erik had the ability to sends hologram instead.

"Why is he here?" Natalia takes a quick glance at her e-mail in-box in hopes it will perhaps give some clues. It's only filled with e-mails from other clients. Nothing about Erik.

"I have no idea, but can I send him in? I think his very presence is freaking out poor little Lilli down at reception..."

"Ah, yes. Of course. Se-send him in," she stammers, quickly pushing stacks of paper together to make her desk look more neat.

A minute later Erik walks in. A sketchbook under his arm and a brown leather backpack on his back.

"Wh-what can I help you with?" She asks with an eyebrow raises suspiciously.

He doesn't reply, only pulls the chair in front of her desk closer and takes a seat. Natalia leans away from him as he leans in closer, staring at her intensely with his blue eyes.

"465. Payne's Gray and a hint of 322. Indigo...interesting." he mutters and before Natalia can object he's opened his sketchbook; a pallet of watercolours and a large square pencil-case of colour pencils produced from his backpack in an instant.

She starers in confusion and shock as he makes small circular motions with the various pencils.  
Occasionally he whips his head up and stares into her eyes before ducking back down to his paper.

"Wh-what are you doing?" she finally stammers after the silence between them becomes unbearable.

"Drawing you," he replies shortly as he continues to draw the gray-blue circles all over the paper.

"Me? Why!"

"Couldn't remember enough details..." he mumbles as he looks up from his sketchbook, quickly turning a page and putting down the current pencils.  
"Hard to determine exact colours from memory," he admits as he starts to hover his hand over the yellow side of the spectrum of coloured pencils.  
"Your hair is a...422. Naples Yellow I believe," Erik pries out the pale yellow pencils and hold it up, his eyes flickering from the pencil to her hair "Although I do believe there's a hint of 731. Winsor Yellow Deep and 649. Turner's Yellow as well, but I'll have to use them lightly..."

The two other yellow pencils join the first one and he begins making long and quick strokes all over the page.  
Natalia nervously fidgets with her hair, not understanding his reasoning behind the odd shapes he' creating on the white paper.

"Work if you want, I'll just sit here for a while till I have this down correctly..." Erik tilts his head a little to the side and glances quickly up at Natalia.

"I'm not doing anything until you explain why you're here properly! In more than just 8 words even!"

Erik stops his light pencils strokes instantly, carefully putting down his book and pencils.  
"I told you I wanted to draw you...it's hard to draw from memory alone, especially when I want perfection. And seeing as I have no photographs of any kinds I had to come here instead."

"No, no, you idiot! That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean then?" Erik's eyes give nothing away, he actually seems genuinely confused over her reaction to him being there.

"Why are you drawing me? What purpose in your mystical word does it serve?" she huffs and crosses her arms, glaring at him coolly.

"Oh..." Erik looks a little embarrassed as he scratches the back of his head. Natalia continues to glare until he seems to pull himself together with a fake cough.  
"I...well, I had an idea. Nothing big or anything, I just couldn't leave it alone,"  
His gaze falls down to his sketchbook for a brief second before meeting hers again  
"A story about a woman, a very beautiful woman. Words alone didn't convey what I wanted, so I needed some drawings, but nothing looked _right._" Erik sighs deeply.

"Are you basing this character on me?" she can't hide the disbelief in her voice

"Yes," He admits after a minute of agonising silence. "I don't choose who my 'muse' is...it just happens."

"So what exactly are you going to do now? Sit here while I work?"

"Didn't think that far actually,"

"Of course you didn't," she rolls her eyes at his words, tapping her fingers impatiently on her desk.  
"I'm not sitting here as your model for nothing,"

"I can pay you if that makes it better?" Erik suggests, not a single trace of sarcasm or joke in his voice.

Blushing, Natalia stares intently at her diary instead.  
"Let's make a deal..." she picks up her pen and chews the top thoughtfully "You explain more about you idea and tell me more on how and where you find inspiration, and in turn I might let you draw me."

"I can't just explain everything," Erik frowned, glaring slightly at her "If anything, I'll have to show you where my inspiration comes from. Words alone are not enough," Erik picked up a pencil and spun it around his fingers. "Besides, why are you so interested in knowing about my source of inspiration?"

Diverting her gaze to a series of books she had edited and helped publish, Natalia took a deep breath and began to explain.

Erik remained silent as she told him everything.  
How she never had any talent in anything "creative". From dancing to writing; art to poetry.  
She had no talent for any of them. Despite years of dedication and a small fortune spent of trying to find something she was good at, Natalia had come out empty handed each time.  
In the end she had given up trying to be creative herself, setting instead for helping others be creative.

She omitted to tell Erik that the thought that she had inspired him to make something – that she was technically someone muse – made her so happy she could have embraced him on the spot.

Nodding in understanding, Erik stood up from the chair and reached over the desk to take her hand. A little uncertain, Natalia let him pull her up from her own chair.

"I'll show you then," he smiled softly, and she finds herself thinking that maybe, just maybe; he's not as cold or distant as she first though.  
Perhaps they're both a little similar like that she thinks. Neither willing to open up until the other has proven themselves worthy of such an 'honour'.

While she prefers to keep everyone at an arms length, just this one time it won't be such a bad this to let him closer.

-X-

She still can't believe she's back in the middle of nowhere. Driven here by Erik even!  
The car ride was filled with strange music from his car's stereo, but somehow Natalia didn't mind. It was nice to sit and stare at the scene flash past as Erik did all the driving.

By the time her bags are put back in the room she occupied the last time they're both tired.  
However, before Natalia can suggest they take a nap Erik drags her outside.

"I need to show you something," he mumbles as he hands her some snow-boots and a thick knitted scarf and mittens.

They walk though the deep snow with minor difficulty, Natalia following after Erik, using his footprints so she doesn't have to stumble and tire herself out on making a path.  
Everything is so peaceful and serene around them. The snow glinting in the deep orange glow of the sun that's slowly starting to set behind the moutains.

He stops in front of the lake, brushing off some snow from a bench before taking a seat.  
Hesitantly she takes a seat next to him, wondering why he brought her out here.

"Do you believe in magic?" He asks out of the blue.

"Magic? No...I don't think I do. Not any more anyway..." She used to as a child, loving anything that would give a hint to magic being real – be it books and performances.

"Ah...," Erik nods sombrely "These days I am only met with odd looks and a shrug whenever I mention magic. People no longer believe," he sighs

"Should they?" she tries carefully

"Yeah. They should. Because magic still exists – it's everywhere," he gestures around them with a slight twitch of a smile on his lips.

"It's only changed slightly over the years you see..."

"How so?" Natalia leans in a little closer. Erik has a glint in his eyes, so different from his normally dull and uncaring expression.

"We humans like to define things – put names on things that previously were nameless. We need to know every little detail of every little thing. That in it self is rather spectacular if you think about it."

"I guess..."

Erik chuckles "Many centuries ago science was known as magic – but even if we have given it a new name, I do not find it any less magical. I mean...How can they look up at the night sky an not see the wonders in front of their eyes?" the way he speaks reminds her of a small child telling his mother about a newly made up adventure.

She can't stop staring at his growing smile as he continues to talk  
Perhaps she could break the illusion he seems to have about the word with logic – but he seems so innocent and happy as he sits there surrounded by pure white snow, tall trees and sky-high mountains. Like everything is magic and dreamlike to him. Natalia can't destroy such an imagery and not feel like she's killing a part of his soul.

She had asked him to tell her where his inspiration came from, thanking him by cynicism is too low of a 'crime' for her to commit.

"Interesting idea you have there, Erik." she giggles lightly, smiling just a little at him "Why don't you ever tell others about this?"

"I think they'll just laugh," He shrugs "but even so, I don't think my feelings will ever change. I just don't like sharing my magic...except for with you,"

"Thank you," she mumbles as she feels the heat rise to her cheeks

"Everywhere I look I see magic. Not spirits and invisible things...Just little moments of wonder. They inspire me,"

"Can you tell me some examples?"

Erik looks out over the frozen lake, staring at something far out in the distance for a minute.

"Like a child making it's first friend," he suddenly replies, making Natalia jump a little in surprise.

"A bird stretching it's wings out for the very first time and taking flight, unsteady and uncertain at first, but soon soaring like the rest," he continues with a smile.  
"Winter turning into spring. Or simply how a smile only with your eyes can brighten up your entire face." he turns to her at the last example and smiles at her so genuinely she can't help but blush and smile in return.

He's right, the way his eyes glint and the way there are faint traces of crow's feet by his eyes is truly magical. A sight to treasure and keep tucked away in her heart forever.

"Those are rather magical I guess; little things that you know everyone else can see, but never acknowledge as anything but routine, right?" she'd never fully understood the mind of artists. Always wanted to – never managed to get them to tell her. Yet Erik is pouring his heart out to her; it makes her happier than any words could ever describe. The warmth he makes her feel keeping the cold air far at bay.

Erik nods, his eyes bright and fully of life.

"Precisely, so I will never feel ashamed to admit I still believe in magic, nor will I ever stop seeing it," he chuckles, his hand suddenly over hers.  
"My definitions might change, and they might vary from yours; but take a break, step back and look at the world as if you're looking at it for the first time," he squeezes her hand, and even through the thick mittens she can feel his slender fingers wrap around her petite hand.

He stands up and pulls her up with him, the deep snow causing her to momentarily stumble until his hands steady her.

Erik smiles down at her, his own cheeks sporting a faint blush as well – be it cold or something else altogether.

"Is it not truly magical?" he whispers softly, leaning down just enough for her to feel his hot breath against her own cold skin.

"Yeah," she breathlessly replies, biting her lip as she gives his hand a gentle squeeze.

She doesn't lean away or flinch as he leans even closer to her; instead she tilts her head ever so slightly and closes her eyes. His lips are chapped and dry as they meet hers, but so gentle and caring she can't think of anything else but how wonderful yet surreal this all seems.

The snow dampens every sound around them, a white carpet of silence all around them as they pull closer.

Even as he wraps his right arm around her waist he keeps his left hand firmly in her hand, pulling her as close to him as he can.  
Natalia licks his dry lips, moaning softly as they both part their lips to let the other explore the other's mouth.

Neither know how much time has passed when they pull apart, both flustered and shaking a little.

"We should go inside," Erik mumbles and Natalia only nods in return.  
The road back to his home takes less time than it did to leave it and soon she finds herself comfortable on the sofa with a mug of hot chocolate and a large woolly blanket around her shoulders.

Erik soon joins her, his arms soon finding her waist and the second her mug is placed down on the coffee table he embraces her even tighter.  
She tries to push him away a little playfully, but the kiss to her neck send her into a fit of giggles and she knows she won't be escaping any time soon.

That night she doesn't need the spare bed.

Nor does she need it the next night either.

And true to her words, she lets him paint her.  
First try makes her fidget uncontrollably under his intense gaze; but a few reassuring words and a kiss later, she settles in a little more comfortably.

The fourth time he only does little sketches as she putters about the living room, sick and tired of the walls being so bare and empty. Occasionally he chuckles and helps her hang up a picture when she can't quite reach up, but for the most part he just sits there and follow her movements with his eyes.

It's not until the tenth time that she allows him to draw her without any clothes on.  
She's horribly embarrassed at first, but as he sits there; legs crossed and sketchbook in hand, she forgets to feel uncomfortable as time ticks by.

The way his eyes follow every curve and angle of her body doesn't make her uncomfortable, only more confident. It feels odd to lie in the bed as he draws her. However, the love and desire in his eyes each time he looks up form the paper is hard to miss.

"Put them down," she orders after it's been thirty minutes, and Erik complies.

He strips of his own clothes and lies next to her on top of the sheets, his fingers tracing her curves; committing them to memory as if he's drawing her in his mind. Natalia purrs and pulls him in for a kiss, revelling in the attention he gives her.

"I love you," he murmurs softly and without even skipping a beat she knows what to reply,  
"I love you too" she whispers in return, feeling his lips on her neck turn into a wide grin before showering her with kisses.

Giggling and kissing him back; Natalia decided that yes, this certainly was the best assignment she ever agreed to take on.

* * *

_A.N: Well then, there you have it! Some NorBela AU Nonsense that I for once completed! OTL_

_Not sure if enough feels in this. But oh well. Enough to please Laura to some extent XD_

_funfact: UU Editorials stands for "United Unicorn Editorials". It's owned by Arthur. He's a bit odd okay, don't judge him._


End file.
